


Under the Sea

by TheStrange_One



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Boxes are characters, Human Wade, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Magic, Mermaid Peter Parker, Merman Peter, Ocean, city, coastline, mermaid, merman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 04:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20039812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrange_One/pseuds/TheStrange_One
Summary: To prevent the war that's been brewing between the folk of the land and the folk of the sea, Undersea King Steve sends five mer to the surface to try to forge alliances with humans. Land King Tony assigns each mer to a host family, attempting to solidify their welcome. Peter and Wade get along surprisingly well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So, a long time ago (and I can't even remember what fic this was, sorry) I came across a fic where Wade asked the fanfic writing audience why there were no sexy mermaid AUs and my clueless little inspiration was like, "Challenge accepted." Then, a little over a week ago, LieSinPain informed me (who mainly learned and heard of Deadpool through the movies) where the boxes actually came from and how the white box wasn't a voice in his head, but another character, Madcap, who ended up trapped in Wade's body while the yellow box was just a commentary from his subconscious, and the idea to make them their own separate characters, separate from Wade was born. Here you go. Mermaids for Mermaid summer.
> 
> Okay, side note here: I just reread this and realized the story might be slightly confusing if you don't know one important fact about mermaids in my stories (I use the same template for them all). My mermaids have the reproductive parts of both males and females. The secondary characteristics form based on how they act in the society. Primarily nurturing and healing results in female secondaries developing and primarily hunting/gathering/fighting results in male secondaries developing--which means that in many neither secondary sex characteristics actually develop, giving them slight, immature looking bodies completely at odds with their fertility and actual age. Please keep this in mind.

The kelp waved despondently in the current as May clutched it. She turned wide, frightened eyes on her nephew, the last of her blood. She couldn't let him know how frightened she was. “This is—this is a great honor,” she said. The pale silver of her braids wrapped around her head as she tried not to look at him.

“Aunt May,” the calm voice, tinged with humor said, “I’ll be fine.”

May peered through her braids at her nephew. He was simply not built like most of the merfolk. Most of them had thick, muscular tails—well suited for pushing against even the strongest of currents. Peter—did not. His tail was long, yes, but it was also thin. Many had wondered when he was born if he would ever be able to properly swim. Most merfolk had thick, muscular bodies—fit for hunting even the most savage of predators. Peter—did not. Compared to most his body was thin, almost like his tail, and he was pale—too pale. Most of the merfolk were darkly colored and had mottled scales to help them hide in the depths. Peter—did not. The scales of his tail were bright red and blue, his fins were so white they almost glowed.

Peter could also use magic. There were others, of course, who could use magic—but Peter was the best. Peter’s magic allowed him to overcome his physical limitations.

_And what else?_ May ignored the traitorous voice in the back of her mind. The important thing, the  _only_ thing, was that Peter was a good tadpole and had a kind heart.

A sob broke through her throat and she reached out for him; her tadpole—her  _son_ .

Peter willingly embraced his aunt, and gently smoothed the braids out of her face. “It will be all right,” he told her firmly.  His embrace was firm. There was nothing, save the scrawniness of his body, to indicate that he wasn’t as strong as other merfolk.

“You’re my baby!” May wailed.

Peter soothingly ran his tail along hers as he hugged her. “I’ll be fine,” he said with confidence. “Everything will be all right.” She could only shake her head and cry, pearls falling off to clutter the floor of their little house.

“Shut up Wilson,” growled the dark haired man. The short, stocky man grimaced as he was hit with yet _another_ ocean spray. “This is annoying _enough_.”

Wade, with no filter, gamely replied. “ Aw, is it too  _wet_ out here for you?”

“That’s enough.” The order came from the leader of their little party and Wade automatically turned to look at the younger man. Scott had taken off his glasses, designed to save the people around him from getting blasted by his eyes, and was rubbing his lids. The lids had a dark, almost bruised look to them. Wade kept his mouth shut until the glasses were back on. While Scott couldn't actually kill him (no one could), he _could_ make Wade miss out on this important event.

In an effort to create peace between the kingdoms of the land and the sea (the sea folk kept wrecking ships and the land folk kept  hunting them) the sea king was sending five of his people to live on land for a year. The hope (from both sides; both rulers were sick of the bloodshed) was that bonds would be formed between the humans and sea folk.  A group of five humans had been picked to meet them on the shore, to take the first steps towards trust and a better relationship.

Well, the  _others_ had been picked carefully by their ruler for the first gesture at peace. Wade was, as with most things, along for the ride.

[They should be grateful we’re here.] The long, thin beast sat next to Wade and watched  sea with narrowed yellow eyes. Its white coat had taken a dull gray sheen from the surrounding land. [They have no idea how dangerous the merfolk are.]

The other beast ran into the waves only to fall back laughing. {But it’s fun!} The yellow beast rolled and looked at both Wade and the other beast with wonder filled white eyes.

The uninitiated would think that the two beasts were blind. Few knew the truth, knew what they truly were. Those who did know tended to look at Wade like he was a monster—and, maybe, he was.

Another splash interrupted Wade’s thoughts as the  sea in front of them literally split in half. Rising from the depths, sea foam dancing around them, were five people.  Four of them were tall, obscuring the fifth, muscular, and wider at the top than the bottom. They were covered in what appeared to be thin sheets of kelp. They were going to have trouble moving around on land. 

[Don’t underestimate them Wade. They are far more dangerous than they appear.]

{A singer! This one’s a singer!}

Wade looked up in horror as Yellow bounced through the foam to jump up to the fifth one emerging. The fifth one looked surprised, but caught the beast before it fell back to the ground.  Then, he smiled. Amazingly, impossibly—he smiled.

“Parker!” snapped the one at the head of the group. The boy flinched.

{I want to kill that one Wade. Can I kill him?} Yellow’s tail thumped gently against the boy’s side as the boy fearlessly held the blood beast.

“Put the beast down,” growled the leader.

Parker, the boy, carefully stepped away from the group, trotted onto dry (well, dry-ish) land, and set the blood beast on the ground. Then he gave a low note that made the water shiver off of Yellow’s coat, leaving the blood beast perfectly dry. In fact, a great deal drier than any of the humans on the shore.

In a flash White was next to Yellow and nuzzled gently at the other beast before purposefully nudging P arker with its nose.  Wade watched suspiciously as the other members of the group realized (slowly) that something was going on. “Would you like to be dry too?” White gave a regal nod and the boy emitted that tone once more.  Water and dirt flew off the blood beast, leaving a it a pure, pristine white.

[The singer is innocent.]

{We should keep him!}

Wade noticed the staring about the same time as the boy, and the boy stood and tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear and shifted nervously. Scott, Logan,  Anna Marie, and Hank stared at the boy—with the two suspiciously docile blood beasts at his feet. The other merfolk were staring as well and looked—annoyed.

“Parker,” growled the one in front.

The ears on both Yellow and White flattened against their heads and, as one, let out a low growl right back at the merfolk. Anna Marie cleared her throat. “Can we, uh,  _not_ antagonize the insanely dangerous blood beasts?”

“Welcome to our land!” said Hank, eyes drifting towards Parker and the beasts warily.

Of course he was wary. Wade was the one they were bonded to and  _he_ was wary. There was a reason that people avoided blood beasts.

“We’ve prepared places for you to stay,” Hank continued.

{Can we take him home? I want to take him home!}

[I agree. We must make sure the singer is not…tainted.]

_By what?_ Wade wondered. Neither beast (no surprise there) answered him.  Everyone knew that blood beasts, bound or not, answered to no one.

Peter watched as the person (Hank, he’d introduced himself as envoy of their land king) divided up the merfolk. Peter didn’t want to be separated from them—actually no. No, he could  _easily_ stand to be separated from them, but he didn’t want to be  _alone_ . Not on dry land. He remembered the stories…

The land beast, with yellow hair, leaned against Peter’s leg and tucked its head against his knee with a low whine. The landfolk stopped and stared for a moment, as though Peter was some kind of terrifying animal that would snap and kill them at a moment’s notice.  Peter tried to ignore them as he reached down and gently pet the land animal. The white one nudged his other leg, wanting attention too and Peter was glad to provide it.

Their king hadn’t really given a lot of details as to how this mission was to be accomplished. He wanted to  stop the kidnappings of merfolk by humans, and he wanted them to try and build a relationship with the landfolk. Something that Peter had, somehow, already managed to screw up.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by one of the landfolk (a human so bulky he could have been merfolk) slinging an arm around his shoulders. The yellow beast turned and snapped a bite out of the man’s leg. The man didn’t even seem to notice as the beast began to daintily chew the meat. Was that normal?

“Sorry Hank,” said the man. “This one’s coming with me.” The blue human opened his mouth to speak and the man quickly added, “White and Yellow insist.” Landfolk gazes turned to Peter before dropping to the beasts once again.

“And Wade’s home is open to that one. Ah,” the human raised his voice as Flash stalked over to Peter, “I wouldn't—”

Flash reached for Peter, who flinched, but the white beast was suddenly between them releasing a low growl that made the rocks around them tremble.

“So, uh, yeah,” said the man holding Peter, apparently his name was Wade. “See, White and Yellow are a little—unpredictable. And vicious. Very vicious. Not sure why this guy’s still in one piece. So—uh, try not to get too close? If you value your life? Sorry, sorry, not trying to break the alliance all by myself—sorry.”

Before Peter could react the yellow beast lifted its head and swallowed the meat with final gulp before trotting up to stand next to the white beast, tail wagging, tongue lolling. “Shit,” cursed the man as he strode up to the two beasts. He reached down and grabbed at the two necks.

His leg was now whole. There was a hole in the pants, where the beast had bitten through it, but the muscles underneath were once again in one piece and Peter could see the jagged skin  through the hole. He stared.

Humans had better recovery powers than merfolk! No  _wonder_ their king wanted an alliance with them—perhaps, if they got the authority humans on their side they’d be able to stand a chance against the hunters! And this guy—wasn’t upset by Peter.  That was new. That was…nice. 

W ade turned to him. “I—I hope you don’t mind,” he said nervously.

It occurred to Peter, for the first time, that the humans were just as nervous as the merfolk. Neither side had had much interaction with the other. For the first time humans and merfolk were coming together. Peter smiled. “I don’t mind,” he said shyly.

The huge human looked at him before looking away. “Sorry,” he muttered. The white beast looked up at the man and he turned, offering a hand to Peter. “Name’s Wade,” he said nervously.

Peter, not entirely certain what the hand was for, reached out for it. “Peter,” he introduced.

The white beast gave a loud, sharp bark and Wade nodded. “These are White and  Yellow,” he said pointing to the fascinating creatures.

“Hello White,” Peter said softly, trying not to get too much attention from the others. “Hello Yellow.” The yellow one jumped up and rested two paws on Peter’s chest before absently licking a stripe up the merman’s face.

“I think they like you.”

“Are you an _idiot_?” raged Antonius Stark (also known as Tony, to his friends), king of Vlagard, largest nation of the known world. He glared down at the men in front of him. “Do you have _any_ idea how important this mission is?” he demanded. “Do you?”

The men, understanding their monarch’s anger, stayed silent.

The kingdom Vlagard had one huge strength and one huge weakness. Unfortunately, they were one and the same. The ocean provided food, for the citizens, and travel. It also provided shelter for the  merfolk.

Some of the merfolk were harmless. They either wanted to learn more about the humans that looked like them, or they stayed far enough away. Tony was fine with either of those responses. He admired those that wanted to learn more about humans, and respected the ones that wanted to be left alone. That was fine.

What was  _not_ fine was the majority of merfolk, who could not tell the difference between a legitimate sailing vessel and a pirate ship, who would mercilessly attack ships and drown everyone on board.  He had  _heard_ that they had a way of controlling the weather—but he didn’t put much stock in it. No one could control the weather.

He also understood the reaction. The pirates would hunt the merfolk and use them in gory, pain-filled ways that made Tony sick if he thought about it too long. He  _hated_ the pirates, would destroy them all if he could.  The things they did—made him sick, they really did.

At the same time he had to protect his people—and he didn’t want to go to war with the merfolk.  While all Vlagardians praised their navy and believed it to be unbeatable—Tony knew better. He knew that no matter how he enhanced his ships, how many weapons he made for them—they would be vulnerable to attack from below. There was no way around it—and from the bottom was where the merfolk would come from.

Luckily, the king of the sea was just as eager to end the war as Tony was. His reasons were different, of course; from what Tony understood the pirates had discovered the spawning grounds and were attacking there, slaughtering and kidnapping as the whims took them. Right now the pirates could hide amongst the legitimate—but if they could forge an alliance, all that would change. It was even possible that the mer and the humans could work  _together_ to destroy the pirates. Possible.

First though, they had to prove they could coexist which was  _not_ going to happen if one of the ambassadors got killed!

“Forgive me, My Lord.” Tony shifted in his throne so he could watch the approaching man carefully, warily. Lord Stephen Strange was the only true magician in the kingdom. He could use his magic to manipulate time, energy, and even living things. His living cloak was proof of his power. So far all he had done was in the best interests of the kingdom. “I was held up in divination.”

So far. Tony’s father Howard might have agreed with and held the magician in high esteem, but that didn’t mean Tony did.  Tony believed himself to be a man with a practical nature. Sure, they lived in a world saturated by magic—but there was a reason the majority of the populace couldn’t  _use_ it.

“You only missed the threat to the treaty that my vassals allowed to happen,” growled Tony as the men in front of him flinched.

“Oh? The Singer is not with the man Bonded to blood beasts?” asked Stephen as he stepped into the room with a frown. “That would be—most unfortunate.”

“Singer?” asked Tony.

“Indeed. Here on land,” the magician theatrically put a hand over his heart, “we have magicians. Under the sea, they are known as Singers. I do believe that your aquatic royal counterpart sent one of them as an ambassador.”

L ady Tasha, unofficially the head of Tony’s entire spy network, stepped out of the shadows. As always, no one had realized that she was there. “Explain,” she ordered. Then, realizing she wasn’t dealing with one of her personal underlings, she explained herself as she rarely did. “Explain why it is important to allow one of our possible allies to live with an unpredictable, immortal man and his two bonded blood beasts.”

Tony shifted at the mention of the creatures. Blood beasts were dangerous, wild, and unpredictable. The two that had bonded with the former soldier were—slightly—more stable than the ones that hadn’t bonded, but that did not mean they were  _safe_ . He did not want to risk this mission by entrusting the safety of one of the ambassadors with  _them_ .

Stephen met her eyes calmly, living cloak fluttering around him in its own wind. “There are forces conspiring to destroy us, and that child is the keystone. Fortunately, they adore him.”

By the time they got to Wade’s home (a crappy little flat in one of the worst parts of the city)  he was, understandably, nervous. The flat was small, cramped, and cluttered. It didn’t have any  rodents in it—but that was because the two blood beasts were ruthless in hunting them out and killing them.  He was certain that it was nothing like—like whatever the mer had under the sea.

The boy looked around the one-room flat with wide eyes. “There’s so much  _light_ ,” he said as he looked around.

Light? The flat was  just big enough for a bed, clothes chest, and chamber pot and the kid was talking about the light? “Uh, most places have light,” he said.

“Not in the sea,” explained the merman softly. He walked to a window and watched the play of the sunlight over the skin of his hand. “In the sea, only the wealthy have lots of light.”

[The farther down you go, the more the light is filtered by the water and the harder it is to see.] White watched the boy standing, just enjoying the sun for a moment. [Those at the bottom of the hierarchy are at the bottom of the floor, where there is less light.]

Wade stared at the beast. It almost sounded as though White had been there and seen it. But that was impossible—wasn’t it?

{Food Wade!} Yellow insisted as it wagged its tail furiously and panted. {We all need food!}

Yeah, right. Wade remembered what happened the  _last_ time he’d taken the two blood beasts with him to get food. “ Yeah—no,” he told it.

“What?” asked the boy as he turned, still basking in the sunlight, to look at Wade. The glow of the setting sun softened already soft features and he looked so sweet, so pretty that Wade ached to reach out and _touch—_

[Peter. The singer said his name is Peter.]  White trotted over to the boy who automatically— _fearlessly!_ —reached out and pet it.

“Right. Peter.” Wade watched as the boy gently scratched White behind its pointed, twitching ears. Wade still found the sight freaky as hell. He looked at the boy. “What do you know about bond beasts?” he asked curiously.

Peter frowned and slowly, gracefully dropped to a seat on the floor. “Not much,” he said as Yellow bounded over to fling itself in his now presented lap while it panted excitedly.

Wade was very glad he was wearing loose pants. “You know,” he squeaked. He cleared his voice and tried again. “You know that the world is filled with magic,” he said as he tried not to let inappropriate imagery flow into his brain.

Peter nodded. “Of course,” he said.

Wade was stunned at how he managed to keep the insult out of his tone of voice. He swallowed. “Bond beasts—sometimes,” he said changing track, “a human is in a situation where they—impress a magical beast. The two—bond, hence the name, and they’re forever in each other’s heads after that.”

[And being in  _your_ head is quite the trial.]

“So you impressed them?” asked Peter.

White snorted with derision and Yellow convulsed into laughter as it rolled on Peter’s lap. “Well—we reached an agreement, of sorts,” Wade admitted.

{You didn’t die.}

[Not like we didn’t  _try_ .]

“And,” Wade said ignoring them with difficulty, “they said they’re hungry. Because they’re—them, I’m not allowed to take them into the general public if I can avoid it, and so I was wondering—would you like to come with me to get them food?”

White glared at him. [You must feed the Singer as well, Wade.]

“And us as well,” Wade added quickly. He thought about his usual place and winced. “There will be—a lot of people,” he said slowly.

Peter’s face, impossibly, brightened. “I’d love to meet more humans!” he said cheerfully. He gently rubbed Yellow’s face, scratching it behind the ears, before gently pushing the beast off his lap. And Yellow—didn’t—attack!

Wade shot the blood beast a look as he steered Peter back towards the door.

{Oh! I want to go! I want to go!}

[No.] White firmly sat on the blood beast’s tail. [If we go we may traumatize the Singer. We do not want him to get corrupted.]

Yeah. Wade was going to need White to explain that. Later. First—food. “Do you eat?” he asked, concerned as his hand spanned almost the entire back. “You look very—thin.”

“You’re sweet,” Peter said sweetly.

Francis took a long drag of his cigar as he kept a wary eye out on the clientele of the shady tavern. He knew they wouldn't turn him into the Guards, but there were a few that wouldn't hesitate to distribute what they saw as “justice” on him. He needed to steer clear of them, at least while he was on dry land.

_Justice_ . They were just too weak to see the opportunity that presented itself. The mer were a goldmine. They cried pearls, bled rubies, and some were comely enough to grace noble beds. Ha! He bet King Stark had no idea how many of his court had illegally caught mer locked up as toys.

They’d be harder to get though, if both the Navy and the mer were after him. He just needed one more big haul, something large enough to outfit the ship for a voyage to a new land where no one knew him, no one knew his exploits. As long as it was filled with people he could use, he didn’t much care where he went.

He caught sight of a familiar scarred head and ducked into a shadowed corner as he cursed under his breath. Was he fast enough? This was  _not_ the time to be visiting that one…

But he had company. There was something—familiar in the way the young man moved. Almost graceful, even when simply moving around a puddle (piss or vomit; didn’t matter in this hellhole) on the floor. Graceful, flowing. Almost as if he was—underwater?

Francis realized what he was looking at. A mer—in human form! And a comely one! Oh, the prices people would pay for  _that_ in their bed…

He just had to figure out  _how_ .

The light was fading as the two of them walked back to Wade’s home. Peter wasn’t stupid; he could tell that humans prized space over light. Still, he’d lived in the shadows since he was a tadpole, and he’d always longed for the light. It was nice. It was warm.

It was drier than Peter had ever thought he’d be.  He’d never been out of the water for so long before and his skin was starting to have an odd, tight feeling to it. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but  _was_ strange.

Then there were the people. As they were getting food the man (a thin, scrawny man that intrigued Peter because he’d never have been allowed to live to adulthood if he’d been mer), the man asked what kind of roast Peter wanted and Peter had replied  that he didn’t eat meat. The man had simply smirked and said, “Wade must be disappointed to hear that.”

Wade had turned an interesting shade of red (Peter hadn’t known that humans could change their skin color like that) and paid the man before leaving while the other man cackled.

“Sorry,” he said, still red.

“It’s okay,” Peter assured him. “I don’t understand anyway.” For some reason Wade’s skin became such a stark, mottled red around his scars that he almost seemed to glow.

“It’s—yeah,” said Wade as he rubbed his neck. Peter had noticed the human made that gesture a lot, and it showed off the muscles in the man’s chest. He wanted to rub his hands over the lovely textured skin and feel the muscles rippling underneath, but didn’t know how humans felt about that kind of contact. Would his host welcome it, get nervous and explain why it was wrong, or just be so offended that Peter broke a taboo that Peter was booted out of the man’s home and sent to the palace? He just wasn’t sure.

“Well, well, well,” purred a voice as a thin woman with generous curves sauntered up to the two of them. Unlike most of the human women that Peter had met, she wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing. “I heard you were playing host to one of the exchange mer, but I didn’t believe. The boys let it happen?”

Wade smiled, attitude changing to confident in a moment. Peter watched with fascination.  It was as if the human was a rainbow of reactions to people. This person gets one reaction, this one another, and still another for this strange woman.

Mer tended to have two  reactions; either they were  protective and close, or rejecting and cold. Well, they were also respectful to Steve—but he was their king.  Of  _course_ they all felt respect and a little awe for him.

“The boys insisted,” Wade told her.

She paused. “What, really?” she asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

“Really.”

She looked at Peter again, wonder and calculation in her gaze. “Wade,” she said without looking away from Peter, “he’s wearing seaweed.”

“To be fair, he was wearing that when—hey!”

The woman linked her arm with Peter’s and began gently towing the mer away. “Humans,” she said firmly, “wear clothes.”

“I’m mer, though,” said Peter, confused. Even more confused when Wade, trailing after them, began laughing.

“You are in human form, in human lands, and you need to dress like a human,” the woman said. She leaned close to him and whispered, “And there are Hunters on these streets. Dressing like a human will help throw them off.”

Peter shuddered. Hunters had gotten his uncle. He went along without protest.

“You going to introduce yourself Ness?” asked Wade

“Vanessa,” said the woman curtly.

“Peter.” The reply was just as curt and quick and he held his hand out like Wade had when the two of them were introduced. The woman shook it before leading him to a room filled with clothes. “Why do most of these have ruffles?” he asked curiously as he poked one item that looked like it was made entirely of ruffled cloth.

“For a different kind of hunting,” Vanessa replied, clearly amused. Behind them, Wade choked.

“Please, calm down,” Steve gently ordered the agitated mer in front of him. The elderly mer was twitching in a nervous manner that meant she was torn between attack, flee, and submit. Not many mer got to that part.

“You didn’t tell him the truth,” she accused, her eyes twitching between Steve and his mate.

“I told him the truth,” Steve said calmly. “He is a strong tadpole, with a good heart. I firmly believe that, out of all those we sent, he is the most likely one to bring us peace.” He didn’t add that Peter was the only one, the only mer that he knew, who was capable of looking into the eyes of a creature and seeing that creature’s soul. And that, having seen the soul, could love it no matter how horrific a creature it was.

Steve did not know if this ability was due to the tadpole’s power. A Singer hadn’t been born to the mer in so long that all anyone knew were myths and legends. Legends of great power, of civilizations created and destroyed by whims—they were even rumored to have had the ability to create new life out of nothing more than a song. Because of those legends, the young mer was outcast among his peers, tossed aside by his parents. But his aunt, his uncle—two mer who had so, so  _desperately_ wanted a child had taken him in, and raised him as though he was their very own. And the tadpole had responded by growing into a bright, vibrant, and curious mer. True, by mer standards he was not very strong—but he was smart. He was clever. He could use his power to make up for his weaknesses.

In sad truth the hardest part of deciding who to send had come down to who was clamoring for a chance to go that hated the young mer the  _least_ . Despite his humble approaches, despite his powers and abilities, he had a shocking power to create resentment and enmity among the mer. Perhaps it would be different among the humans.

“You didn’t tell him about the blood beasts!” the mer shrieked. Fish around them hid and rocks cracked. 

“What blood beasts?” asked Steve, honestly confused. He’d thought they’d died out long ago, when they were banished from all the Seas and Oceans.

“I heard it,” whispered the mer. Tears pooling in her eyes had already gained the opalescent sheen of a forming pearl. “I heard his magic touch them.”

Steve’s heart seized. “What else did you hear?” he demanded of her. Had he sent the youngest, most naive of his people to a trap?

She shook her head. “I heard him use his power on not one, but two blood beasts. And—and I have heard nothing since.”

Bucky, cupping the bulge of the egg within him, swum quickly between the two of them and laid his other arm around her shoulders, as comforting as possible given that she’d been barren before her mate had passed and was unlikely to even attempt to get another one. “We didn’t know about the blood beasts,” he told her firmly. “ We gave them a communication crystal.”

“You think they’ll let Peter use it?” snarled the mer.

“They will if I order them too,” replied Steve firmly. The mer hesitated, then nodded before swimming away. Bucky leaned back, secure in the knowledge that Steve would be there to catch him. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” Steve asked as he cradled his mate.

“I think he has the greatest chance of surviving an encounter with blood beasts,” Bucky replied firmly. 

They both knew it wasn’t an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit that gets a little steamy in this chapter, just warning you. No separation because I can't write steam very well. :)

Peter, having lived most of his life in the depths and only going out into the light to gather food, was fascinated by the different colors that the light turned as the sun set. Colors he’d never seen before—or even had words for!

“What is the name of those colors in the sky?” Peter asked Wade as he pointed up. He was currently carrying huge, rough bags of clothes that the woman—Vanessa—had insisted he take with him as he left and was wearing an outfit of loose pants that tied at the waist with a thin, soft rope and a large shirt that hung over one shoulder (he’d been told it was supposed to, and a lot of Vanessa’s friends seemed to wear their shirts like that).

“Which ones?” asked Wade looking up. He was carrying the food they’d gotten. He winced. “White’s right; stupid question. Well Baby Boy, the clouds are a bright pink—shut up furball, I don’t know the name of the shade—the sky behind them is orange, and the sky above them is purple. Or dark blue. Or dark blue-purple—come to think of it; I don’t know what that color is called. Huh.” The man sounded surprisingly pleased to note he didn’t know the color and turned a grin towards Peter.

Peter grinned back, watching the play of the light against the lively face beside him. The human he was with didn’t seem to be like the other humans—more like a mer that happened to have two feet. Peter found him to be endearing. And—best of all—the human didn’t hate or resent him.

He could remember far too many times when he’d been ordered to do impossible things. “Heal this wound.” “Kill that beast.” “Bring back the dead.”  And every time he’d said he couldn't, they’d hated him more. After all, the Singers were supposed to be able to. What was wrong with Peter?

What was wrong was that Peter was the  _only_ Singer. He knew how to do basic things with his power like clean or find food (only plants though—he couldn't bear the thought of eating another creature). That was all he knew how to do, all he’d figured out how to do. The mer had no centralized place where learning was stored (he’d learned that humans called it a library). There was no one living who had ever even  _seen_ a Singer before Peter was born. All that considered—Peter thought he was actually doing really well.

Back at Wade’s room the setting sun made beautiful colors on the walls. More of that orange (which was nothing like the orange Peter was familiar with, nothing like the orange of fish), a little bit of pink, and an odd dark color that was both blue and purple, almost like the depths of the sea where he and his aunt lived. It was wonderful. He loved the way the light played on the walls, on the fur of the two beasts before him, and on Wade’s amazingly textured skin.

Wade calmly handed both beasts their buckets of dinner (mostly blood with entrails mixed in for good measure), and then he and Peter sat against the wall, in the fading light, as they ate their own dinners—which was something in a light brown lump. “What is this?” he asked with fascination.

Wade frowned. “You never seen a pastry? No, stupid, of course you haven’t. Can’t bake in the ocean. Give a bite, you’ll love it. I think it’s mushrooms and kelp or some shit.  _I_ got beef.”

Peter did as he was told and nearly vibrated apart at the different tastes and textures on his tongue. In the ocean the only two textures were soft and soggy or rubbery and soggy and everything had a strong overtone of salt in it (of course). But this—this was crisp and soft and chewy and the different pieces actually had more textures to them as he chewed. The flavors were indescribable. He had  _nothing_ to compare them to. “’s good!” Peter mumbled around his mouthful.

Wade chuckled. “Of course it is,” he said warmly. “Weasel’s a lot of things—but he’s also a damn good cook.” He laughed at something else, and Peter thought it might be something one of the beasts said to him. He didn’t ask;  just basked in the happy sound.

The two of them finished their food in the relative silence (for Peter) of the two beasts guzzling down their buckets. When Wade finished he stood up and Peter stared at the play of light and shadows on his body. “Can I—” he started. He stopped. He didn’t know enough about humans to know if what he was about to ask was okay or if it would  cause a diplomatic incident.

“What?” asked Wade, half turning, partially silhouetted in the fading light.

Desire overrode caution and Peter felt himself almost pulled to his feet as he looked at the textured skin before him. “Can I—can I touch?” he asked breathily.

Wade stared at him with wide eyes and Peter flinched back. He didn’t want to upset his host, after all. Wade swallowed hard and said, “Yeah. Yeah, you can touch.”

Hesitantly, Peter rested a hand on Wade’s arm. Fascinated by the different textures—soft, rough, smooth, hard—he rubbed his hand along the skin. He barely noticed as he ripped into Wade’s shirt moving over the muscles, feeling them bunch and tremble beneath his hands.

Suddenly Wade’s hand came up and grabbed both of his wrists—gently. Far more gently than Peter knew he could move. “Peter,” said the man huskily, “if you keep going—you’re going to start something.”

“What?” asked Peter, eyes wide looking up into the shadowed face above him. Wondering what the other man saw.

The man swallowed. “Like—sex things. Mating things, White says.”

Peter thought about it for a moment. He knew that mer and humans could mate each other. It had happened before, although it wasn’t openly spoken of. And he knew that  _none_ of the other mer drew him like the human in front of him did. But—mating meant—that. Did he want  _that_ with Wade?

Yes, Peter decided quickly as he raised himself up for a kiss. He most certainly did.

Wade kissed him back, tongue (just as textured as his skin) ruthlessly plundering Peter’s mouth as his hands roamed over Peter’s body eliciting warm chills wherever their skin touched. Peter wanted more. He pulled Wade closer to him, grinding their bodies together and broke away to look down, puzzled. How did humans mate? He was in human form, as Vanessa had said, and he thought they should mate like humans—but how to do it?

Wade silently pushed both sets of pants down leaving them standing in the dim room, completely bare to each other. The human stopped, and stared as he breathed heavily. Peter’s hands began to roam again over the plains of the human’s back and Wade pulled him into another kiss as Peter’s hands roamed lower.  He brought them forward and hit the expected erection—but there was smooth(ish) skin where he expected to encounter folds. “Huh,” he said.

“What?” asked Wade.

“We’re different,” Peter explained as he brought one of Wade’s hands around to feel the glistening folds under his own erection.

“We need to lie down.” Wade said firmly as he gently led Peter to the bed. “Can I—is it okay if I lick down here?” he asked.

“Sure, but why? Oh!” Peter gasped as the rough tongue probed the delicate folds and reached inwards. It went deep—deeper than anything. It reached and reached, stoking an insane fire in his groin—and stopped as Wade pulled away.

“Peter,” Wade gasped as he looked in the darkness at the form beneath him. Peter wondered how much the human eyes could see. “Can I—can I enter you?”

Peter reached up and pulled the human closer. “Yes,” he said firmly as Wade’s own erection lined up with his folds, trapping Peter’s erection between them as he slammed home. Peter gasped as orgasm forced seed out of him—and seed within him. He felt the merging all mer did when they met their Mate and felt the moment fertility was achieved. And then the two lay, in the darkness, as sleep overtook both of them.

[Can you hear me? Singer? I felt your souls mesh.]

{He can  _hear_ us? Really? What am I saying?}

Peter opened his eyes to look at the two snouts in his face. His body was tucked up into and partially under Wade’s. “What?” he asked, confused. He’d never heard of this—but then a mer had never mated a human with bond beasts before, either. 

[ You  _can_ hear us. Good. Wake the idiot. We have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time.]

Puzzled Peter reached out. “Wade? Wade, wake up.”

Wade groaned and pressed his head to Peter’s back, mumbling something and making his skin tingle. Peter ignored the shivers running through him and gently shook the human.  The human smacked his lips and licked the exposed skin sending shivers through Peter. He hummed and did again.

“Wade!” Peter nearly shrieked. He wasn’t above starting those lovely activities again, but it seemed to him that White _needed_ to talk to them.

“Hmm hmm what?” said Wade finally waking up.

[Finally. You’ve gotten too used to tuning us out.]

{Yes Wade. That’s very very rude. Peter! Pets!} Yellow thrust himself under Peter’s hands and Peter obliged as Wade suddenly sat up.

“What?” said Wade again, staring through the darkness at his beasts. Peter helped him sit up on the bed so they could face White as Yellow whimpered and wordlessly begged for more affection.

[I told the Singer to wake you up. We do not have much time left, and there is much you need to know.]

“What do you mean?” asked Peter.

“You can _hear_ him?” demanded Wade in shock.

[Of  _course_ he can hear us, you idiot.] White lifted its lips from its fangs in a silent growl. [When mer mate they share souls. We are bound to your soul, and now to his as well.]

{Good thing, good thing. More pets please.}

Wade watched, stunned, as Peter obliged. Suddenly he swallowed. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to shackle you,” he whispered.

Peter smiled. His poor mate. The human really didn’t understand mer very well, did he? “You didn’t,” he assured Wade, shifting to curl into the human’s side. 

[That’s very nice.] White’s voice may have  _said _ it was nice, but his tone did not. [But all of that is outside the point. Wade, as mate to the current world’s only Singer, there are things you need to know. Singer, Wade is a brash, outspoken, immature moron, but he is the best you could possibly do out of these humans.]

“I can’t tell if I should be insulted,” grumbled Wade. Peter lifted a hand from Yellow to gently squeeze Wade’s hand as Yellow lifted its head and took a dainty bite from Wade’s side before Peter started petting him again.

White ignored them. [Once, long ago, the world had two clans. There was the Carry Clan and the Power Clan. The Carriers had the ability to allow the power of the world to flow through them, not touching them, but allowing them to see the world in a new way. The Power Clan could  _use_ the power, diverting it and changing its shape. All lived in peace—until a great Cataclysm rocked the very foundations of the world.]

Peter could feel Wade frown. “I’ve never heard of a cataclysm,” he protested.

“I have,” Peter said thoughtfully. “But—only in the most distant of legends, mostly forgotten.”

White bowed its head. [It was—a long time ago. But it tore the world into two parts—that of land, and that of water, and the people were not equipped to survive either. The Power Clan did not know which of the two would provide the greatest chance of survival, and so they divided. Half of the Power Clan used their power to turn their half of the people into Humans  with the Power Clan with them turning to Mages , while the other half turned theirs into Mer  and their Power Clan turning into Singers .]

“So—humans and mer were originally the same species?” Wade asked. “Then why…” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped towards Peter’s groin. 

White sneezed. [I don’t know; maybe it was a fetish. Stop interrupting. The mer moved into the sea—and met the kraken.]

“Kraken,” Peter said solemnly, “are huge beasts. They’re like a cross between a squid and an octopus, and they hunt in the depths.” He’d been ordered to kill a few. He hadn’t been able to—although he _had_ been able to make them leave.

[Yes. And the mer—were not prepared. There had been no predators larger than them before the Cataclysm. The Singers did their best—but all they could do was banish the kraken.]

Peter privately wondered if they’d ever really needed to. He remembered the kraken he’d dealt with, that he’d convinced to leave. Perhaps they were the same?

[The Singer Loki decided mer needed more power, and a place to retreat to, so against the wishes of his king, he altered the mer. Thanks to his efforts every mer born can alter their form to walk on land, should the need arise. However, this led to the Singer being Outcast while with egg. He needed a place to hide. A place to grow the tadpoles forming within him. He needed protection. He created us, and named us Impulse] a nod towards Yellow still on Peter’s lap [and Memory.] White bowed its own head for a moment.

“The Singer could create life?” asked Peter with wonder.

Despite having no pupils or irises, the beast with its glowing eyes gave the impression of rolling them. [No more than any other mer. Or human, for that matter. We were taken from what we  _were_ and changed for his needs—and loneliness.]

Peter felt his heart ache for the ancient mer who had died long ago. Mer  _needed_ to be around people, to talk and to laugh, to feel the warmth of embrace from those around them. He could only imagine how crippling the loneliness had been.

[While he was holed up in his cave, practicing his arts and preparing for the eggs, the kraken once again attacked. Their greatest warrior, his mate, forsook the kingdom and swam out in search. By the time he found his mate, our Master, he was almost insane from the solitude. The mate’s presence eased the way quite a bit, and soon the four of us watched the eggs as the mate and the two of us took turns hunting to keep Loki fed.  When the tadpoles hatched, the six of us were happy.]

[However, the king of the mer was not. He resented Loki for taking their strongest warrior, even though he knew the two were mated, and had exiled Loki in his mate’s absence. He led a raid on the cave, killed Loki’s mate, and slaughtered the tadpoles.]

Peter gasped, eyes wide. How? How had a king dared to hurt the tadpoles? All life was precious! He barely noticed that both Yellow and Wade were growling.

[Loki went insane. He saw the murder of his mate, the murder of his tadpoles, and saw the mer warriors coming for us, the last of his creations. The last of his children. He Sang a change in us, making us crave blood, giving us strength, and the ability to heal. We slaughtered them all—but our Master had changed. He was Corrupted. There was—nothing we could do.]

Wade wrapped an arm around Peter. “Why are you telling us this now?” he asked.

[Peter is the last Singer. The  _only_ Singer _. _ There will soon be a time when he must make a decision to remain as he is, to elevate himself, or to be Corrupted. I do not know which you will choose, but I wanted you to know what your decision will mean.]

“But—I don’t know how!” Peter protested, panicking.

[It is instinctual. When it happens, you will know. Do not stress.]

“Thank you, White,” Peter whispered.

Wade wrapped an arm around Peter, his side already healed as Yellow chewed its meat. “Nothing will happen,” he said firmly. “I’m here to protect you.” 

Peter grinned and leaned in for a kiss. “I know you are.”

Flash stared at the small mer in shock. Like all mer, he could see the binding of a mating. “You— _mated_ a  _human_ ?” he demanded harshly staring at the tall human behind the mer.

If Peter  _had_ to mate a human, Flash really doubted that the young mer could have picked a better one. Tall, broad, and clearly strong the human almost looked like a mer himself. But still.

While they’d still been in the sea, Peter would have ducked his head and swum away at the earliest opportunity. Here, on land and with his mate beside him, the young mer  simply took his mate’s hand in his own and met Flash’s eyes squarely and answered without hesitation. “Yes,” he said firmly.

Flash nodded. “Well, Human,” he growled at the strange human, “come. King Steve wishes to speak with Peter through the Crystal, and might as well speak to his mate at the same time.”  He got behind the two of them as he watched the human warily.

Humans were tricky, manipulative creatures. They could easily switch from being friendly to being enemies and Flash didn’t know how to gauge them. Mer were simply by comparison—if a mer liked someone they liked someone and none of that pretending. Flash supposed that it was possible for the human to have tricked Peter into mating him somehow—but he didn’t know how that would be.

At least he’d been briefed on the two beasts that were with the two of them. Blood beasts. Rumors still filled tadpoles with night terrors as their older siblings whispered them. Perhaps the rumors were exaggerated—but, given the way the humans gave the two beasts a wide berth, perhaps not. He eyed them warily.

The white one turned its head to look at him without missing a step, and very carefully, very obviously, winked.

Flash stumbled and almost fell. Fortunately, neither the mer nor the human in front of him noticed. He was going to have to reassess the beasts; not once, in any of the tales he’d heard, was it mentioned that they were  _smart_ .

Inside the building was a room they’d set the Crystal up in. It was on a stool, with a cushion underneath it to prevent the perfectly round surface from rolling off and breaking. As they approached the image of their King appeared within it. “Ah, Peter,” their monarch said. “I see—you’ve mated?”

Peter nodded, his hands never having let go of his mate. A gentle tug pulled the human forwards. “This is Wade,” he said, voice proud and soft.

Flash blinked. This was a new side of Peter. This wasn’t the young, cowardly mer who refused to hunt even to drive monsters away—this was someone new. Perhaps all Peter had needed to properly settle down to his life was a mate. Shame though; while mer could walk on land, humans could not swim under the sea.

“Well done. Have you—”

An explosion took down most of the building around them knocking the Crystal off the stool and shattering it against the hard floor.

Francis grinned. What luck! Most of the mer were ugly, horrid bastards, but the one he’d been tracing was there. And knocked unconscious! He didn’t have to waste any of that medicine.  It was expensive. He and his assistant grabbed the mer and hauled it out of t he building as he planned the auction that would land them far across the sea.

[Those  _bastards_ !]

{Where’s Peter? Where is he?}

[We will  _kill_ them.]

“Damn straight,” growled Wade as he sat up. The woman bending over him shrieked and flailed backwards.

“About what?” demanded a voice. Wade and the three blood beasts turned, identical growls in their throats, to see King Stark’s spymaster, Tasha. Instead of her decadent court gown she was wearing the same kind of clothes that sailors wore working long stretches on the ocean.

“We will kill the fuckers,” Wade growled as he worked his way to his feet, “who took Peter.”

“Peter.” She blinked for a moment. “The mer staying with you?” Her eyes tracked to the beasts, who had healed quicker and were shaking themselves free of debris.

{I miss Peter.  _He_ could get us clean.}

[We will find him. And we will kill them.]

Wade growled an assent as the beasts cast around for the scent of the Singer. Of Wade’s  _mate_ .

Tasha went to stop him when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and she looked up into the eyes of the magician. “Let them go,” he advised calmly, eyes searching the air as he performed divination on the dust forming in it. “It is all in their hands now.”

Peter’s eyes slowly fluttered as he tried to open them, or to get his body to work, period. “Look at that, Angel,” a voice said. A rough hand gripped his chin and forced his head up, making it pound even as his skin crawled from the sensation. “See? He’s still lively.”

“He’ll fetch a good price,” agreed a second voice, a feminine one. There was something—odd about it. Flat, almost. After a moment Peter realized what was wrong—there was _no_ emotion in her voice.

He squinted to try to see them, eyesight still blurry. “Who—are you?” he asked.

His head was slammed into a hard surface making stars dance behind his eyes. “You don’t get to speak,” the man growled. “At least, not unless your new owners want to hear you  _beg_ .”

Owners? Peter—was going to be sold? He tried to force his brain to clear, to force his mind to work.

Peter was one of the ambassadors from the merfolk kingdom. Wade, his mate, worked for the human one. If anything happened to him it would mean war—his people being pit against each other as he had no doubt that his mate would do everything he was asked within the best of his abilities—even if that meant killing merfolk. The war would be bloody—the merfolk warriors were the best of their kind, tempered against the monsters of the deep—but Wade healed impossibly quickly. They would tear each other apart and he knew,  _knew_ his mate would be bleeding on the inside, impossible to heal.

No.

_[There will soon be a time when he must make a decision to remain as he is, to elevate himself, or to be Corrupted.]_

“_The Singer could create life?”_

_[No more than any other mer.]_

But—the singer had been able to _change_ life—to alter it to a shape he needed.

White was right. Now that he was faced with it, now that he had an egg and a mate to protect, Peter knew _exactly_ what to do. He opened his mouth and a single, pure tone rang in the air.

The air shivered, dust rising off the ground as people screamed and ran for their lives. “What is this?” demanded Wade as he pressed on, forcing himself through the crowd that seemed to determined to keep him from his mate. From Peter.

[He’s singing!]

{Oh! _This_ is why you didn’t want to corrupt him!} Yellow absently bit a man’s hand off as he ran.

“Dammit Yellow!” growled Wade as he stopped to tie something around the wrist to keep the man from bleeding to death. “I told you to stop that!”

[We are losing _time. _The Singer is calling!]

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

[You are _not_.]

“How am I supposed to go faster?”

[Stop. Search yourself for the tie to your mate. Feel it in your soul. And _pull_.]

Wade, not entirely sure why he obeyed, closed his eyes. He could feel the tie. Now that he was looking for it, he could sense the rage and desperate need to protect swirling through Peter. He reached for it—pulled—

“Wade, look out!” He ducked as wooden club swung through the space where his head had been.

“If it isn’t the scarred one,” growled the man behind the club.

“Francis! Haven’t seen you since you tossed me in that pit and left me to die,” Wade commented as he circled the man. His blood boiled when he saw Peter.

The young mer’s legs had been tied together into a grim approximation of a tail and his arms tied behind his back. His face was bruised, scraped, and _bleeding_. Wade growled.

“Oh, you don’t like him? Too bad, my customers prefer them this way!” He lunged. Wade, distracted as he was, didn’t catch the blow in time. It sunk into his head. He felt, more than heard the scream.

[Call us! Call for us, Singer!]

Wade watched a single pure tone echoed into the air—for a moment before Francis slammed his club into Peter’s side. “None of that,” ordered the man.

The damage was done. Yellow landed on the man’s back and delivered a paralyzing blow to the back of the neck before proceeding to eat the evil man—feet first. White, quickly behind, growled and killed someone that Wade, still healing, couldn't see. He heard the snapping of teeth, the popping of bindings being snapped, and suddenly he was cradled in the lap of his mate with small, hard things bouncing off his face.

He crinkled his face as soon as he could. “What are you doing?” he asked looking up and seeing—pearls? Falling on him?

“Wade!” Peter pulled him close, moving his entire body, and cried more pearls which rolled off onto the rubble filled floor. “You’re alive!” he said with clear relief.

Wade smiled and reached for his mate. “I’m not that easy to kill, Peter,” he said warmly.

Several weeks later the two of them stood on the shore of the beach. “Are you sure?” Peter asked gently before they went into the water.

Wade ignored the way the rocks cut into the bottoms of his feet as he grinned at his mer-mate. “With you? Always,” he said.

{I want to have white spots!}

[Shut up!]

Peter giggled and Sang a change. He caught his mate as the human toppled over on his sudden tail. White and Yellow lost their fur, gained gills and elaborate fins, and were ready to get into the water again for the first time in hundreds of years, if White was to be believed. Peter changed himself and the four dove into the water and he helped Wade learn how to use his thick, powerful tail for swimming before they headed towards the ocean.

It was time for the Laying ceremony as the entire sea watched with bated breath as their King’s mate went to the spawning ground to lay his eggs. As the (only) human mated to an ambassador, Wade had been invited as well, and Peter was the only one who was capable of making sure he could make the trip into the depths without dying.

{Look! SPOTS!} Yellow swam, craning its neck to see the beautiful white spots decorating his fins.

After a few tries, Wade figured out how to speak underwater. “So,” he managed with a pointed look at Peter’s rounding belly, “will you be visiting the spawning ground, or giving birth on land?”

Peter swum around his mate, entwining their tails together as he smiled. “That depends,” he said.

“On?”

“On whether we prefer mating in the sea or on land.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you read this (if ANYONE reads this), let me know what you think.


End file.
